


Anatomy of a Lover

by tea_petty



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Mutual Pining, Penis In Vagina Sex, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Roleplay, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:15:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25807987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tea_petty/pseuds/tea_petty
Summary: She and Yao are both in Berlin for one night - so they do what they normally do.
Relationships: China (Hetalia)/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 17





	Anatomy of a Lover

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to my tumblr; tea-pettiest

It was a nice hotel, nicer than anything she would’ve picked if she were here by herself. 

Her heels sunk generously into the plush carpet as she searched for the room – room 327, with her key in hand and her suitcase in tow. The walls were done in a soft white, with the ornate gold trim and chandeliers reminding her more of a palace in eighteenth-century France rather than in a luxury, high-rise hotel in Berlin.

Yao had a penchant for the finer things when he could get them and when the occasion called for them; their impeccably lucky overlap of one night in the city counted as such an occasion, apparently.

The thought made her smile – that one night with her was worthy of the splurge to him.

When she found the room, she could feel a nervous flutter in her stomach. It was silly to feel such a way, especially when she’d known Yao for as long as she had. She hastily tried to squash the feeling down in the time it took her to reach the door and scan her sleek room key. The lock mechanism on the door released with a quick click, and then she was entering the room.

It was noticeably cooler inside, and darker, with just the low light settings near the bed, lit for a candle-like smolder minus the risk of an open flame.

She saw him from behind, standing at the window and looking down at the busy street below. Berlin at night glowed, glancing its lights off the water nearby and making it shine like a pearl.

When the door shut behind her, Yao turned, pulling his attention away from the window view, and turning it towards her.

“You’re here,” he crossed the room to greet her, a warm smile on his face. He opened his arms to receive her as he always had before he faltered, and sort of let them fall to his sides. 

“I am.”

She was unsurprised by this; the nature of their relationship had changed, not necessarily for better or worse, when they’d started sleeping together. It had morphed from the cozy creature they had both known it to be to something dynamic, where they could push the physical boundaries of each other, seeing parts of the other they might otherwise never know, though it was still somewhat volatile by definition. 

They saw each other just as frequently as before and still told each other almost everything. The only thing that initial night coming in from the rain had changed, was how they no longer referred to each other as being ‘practically family.’ 

Now, when one of Yao’s colleagues ran their mouth at some work event with a teasing jab at their relationship status, neither felt very inclined to leap up to its defense. How could they when what they’d adamantly denied for years had finally happened?

She knew how it would’ve sounded; two people who’d always had great emotional love for each other, now seemed to stoke up a near-palpable physical chemistry. Why not call a pig a pig and just make it official already? She’d keep watching Yao for his answer; they’d put a pin in that for now.

His dark eyes studied her, looking from her face and then flitting down.

She wouldn’t have pegged him for the type to ogle before she’d gotten better-acquainted with what exactly he was capable of. Now, she warmed under his stare in a way she’d been too shy to before, the first time they’d slept together.

Yao held his arms up again and gestured vaguely to the room around them; it was spacious, with a queen-sized bed. She only caught a glimpse of the bathroom from where she was standing, but she thought she could make out the generous curve of a jacuzzi. 

“What do you think? I know it’s only for one night, but…”

But when she called him to tell him she was going to be in Berlin the same night he was, she’d sounded distraught with her boss breathing down her neck while she was forehead-deep in deadlines.

“It’s perfect.”

She gave a little smile, meant to reassure him. She hadn’t realized how worn out she was until she felt the heaviness in her face when she tried to move it that way. She let her shoulders sit back, and felt the tense pull of the muscles there; no doubt knotted by the greedy fingers of her boss as he hammered her with article quotas.

And no, she was _not_ going to do a feel-good piece on a dog who'd ‘learned to talk’.

Yao moved closer to her, his hands finding hers as he pulled her gently into his arms.

“Mm, _you’re_ perfect.”

This was a part of their new routine; the one where they slept together and he said all the right things because that was the sort of man he was. Her eyes fell shut and she let herself draw in the warmth of his skin. 

She tucked her face into his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his neck. Yao’s hands settled at her back, pulling her in for a tight hug before smoothing upwards along the tender play of muscle beneath her skin.

“So tense,” he mumbled in a half-scold. “You have to take care of yourself.”

At this, a pang went through her chest, and she felt a twinge at her nose. She sniffed it away. 

“I’m okay, I’m just tired.”

Her voice trembled slightly at the end, and she swallowed the rest of it down. Damn it, she would _not_ cry before sex.

Yao pulled back to get a better look at her face. She skirted his gaze, not trusting her eyes after what her voice and nose had pulled.

“ _Aiyah_ ,” one hand came up to brace at her cheek, the pad of his thumb brushing gently at the barely perceptible, bruise-like shadow beneath one of her eyes. “You’re working too hard.”

“Says the man also traveling for work.”

Yao didn’t answer. She knew he was probably thinking that it wasn’t the same. That he could take it, which of course, implied that she couldn’t. It was an argument they’d had since the dawn of their friendship, years ago. 

Nowadays, they didn’t bother bickering the same lines aloud, though, sometimes she found, an unspoken thing could be so loud, that it was like they were saying it anyway.

“Well, tonight’s about what I can do for you; room service, a hot bath,” his hands traced down her cheek, moving down to the corner of her lips. “And whatever else you might want.”

Yao had a thing for touching faces; his fine-boned hands, practiced and skilled at a great many deal of things, held an appreciation for beauty that often evaded the dumbness of lesser men. She read this as his pre-kiss tell; her eyes fluttered shut in anticipation.

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest as he pulled her closer, delighted with how naturally it came to her body to welcome his affection.

He pressed his lips to hers and she at once lost herself to the feel of him. Suddenly, all that stress that had been balled up in her and stuck, like tar mucking up little cogs, had melted away with a rush that made her eyes sting and wet with the promise of what she referred to as an ‘incident’.

 _Oh, for fucks sake_ , she thought and tried to focus on kissing him. 

His lips were soft and full against hers. She loved the way he held her face. When she focused on this, she couldn’t keep track of the skillful movements of his mouth. 

She was putty in his hands, letting his mouth mold hers.

Yao had known her for too long to not notice the subtle stiffness that leached into her. He pulled back and she couldn’t help it, one tear slipped out and streaked down her cheek.

“Oh,” he crooned. “Hey, you don’t have to cry.”

Embarrassment, hot and infuriating in its own right itched at her face. 

“I’m _not_ crying,” she looked away, the way her jaw clenched marring the natural softness of her features.

Yao made a noise at the back of his throat, swiping his thumb to catch a tear to show her.

“Whatever. You don’t have to say ‘I told you so’ or anything.”

She hated when her voice sounded like that; choked, ugly. She dabbed at the corners of her eyes, as if it would unsmudge her running eyeliner.

Usually, this is where she would step away. The only thing she hated more than crying was being studied while she did so, but Yao wouldn’t let her out of his arms. 

“I won’t say I told you so – just let me take care of you tonight, hm?”

This was the part where she asserted that she could take care of herself, even though Yao had gotten exceptionally good at taking care of her throughout the years, and more recently, in more ways than just one.

She didn’t answer, just sighed, sagging more heavily against him, her face falling into his chest.

It was incredibly ironic to her, that the man she cared for more than anything in the world was pleading for her to let him take care of her, and yet she still doubted that he held her in the same capacity that she held him. 

To take care of someone didn’t necessarily mean to care for them. To love someone, didn’t mean to be _in_ love with them. This was the gutter her mind fell into as Yao brushed his lips against hers again, before veering off to pepper a trail of soft kisses along her jaw and up to her ear. She felt the ticklish brush of his ponytail against her hands, and as her head dropped back to allow him access to her neck if he so wished, she found herself groping blindly for the tie in his hair, ready to tug it loose.

She sighed; equal parts melancholic, equal parts wanting of him to continue. A dampness had settled between her legs. Her fingers found elastic and she freed his hair from the tie. 

She pulled back and opened her eyes to watch him, a pang going through her chest.

His hair was like silk, and the way it framed his face, with his high cheekbones and straight nose, made her burn for him in a way she tried to smother when she saw him in the light of day.

His lips brushed against the shell of her ear and she moaned, particularly sensitive there. He nuzzled into her hair.

“You smell so good.”

“Mm.”

He mouthed at her and she couldn’t help but give a little, lopsided smile at the playful gesture.

“You’ve smelled the same as long as I can remember – like jasmine.”

She felt a glowing heat in her chest like someone had replaced her heart with hot coals. It brought the fever burgeoning inside of her up to a swelter.

“It’s weird that you remember.”

“It’s not,” he pulled back to give her an indignant look. “You’re my favorite scent.”

He leaned in to kiss her again, this time a little more fervently. She could hear how her breath picked up and thought she felt the kiss pick up in turn. He angled his head and their noses brushed. 

The heat rose in her and it was almost too much. To be kissed this closely was to allow him to study her. It was like getting an autopsy; if he peeled back one layer, she feared he’d immediately catch sight of just how much of her heart he comprised. She needed to get out and fast.

A ragged pant fell from him before his mouth returned to hers, his lips coaxing hers open so he could slip his tongue in. 

She moaned again, breathier this time. There were oceans between them; oceans of experiences and memories, oceans of both spoken and unspoken things, and sometimes, on nights not like tonight, there was a literal ocean between them.

Her hands had a formidable grip on the collar of his shirt which kept him anchored to her as she was anchored to him. Her hands shook as he crushed her frame gently to his; she felt a discernable hardness at her thigh. It inspired her - her escape hatch.

She pulled him tight to her suddenly, as tight as she could, to give him a last enthusiastic kiss. 

His mouth stalled against hers momentarily; she’d piqued his interest.

Then she released him and sunk down to her knees, smoothing her hands down him as she did so. 

She could feel the lean play of muscle beneath his white button-down. 

At the back of her mind, she realized she still didn’t really know what he did for a living. He worked for the government, she thought, and oftentimes, when they met up for things like this, he was dressed in business-like attire, although beneath, his skin was littered with white scars that crisscrossed and overlapped so much, she couldn’t even begin to decipher where they’d come from.

His hands lingered at whatever part of her she’d let him; by the time she was on her knees, that meant that his hands were by her head.

The bulge in his trousers was at eye-level. Her eyes flicked up to watch him as she popped the button on his pants and tugged the zip down.

She maintained this eye contact as she pulled him from his briefs too, the resistance of his cock against the material making her arousal pound a little harder for him.

Then she was taking him into her mouth, her hand reaching to cup his balls.

Yao groaned and his eyes fell shut.

The sound she pulled from him lit a match in her and suddenly she was filled with the need to please him, to pull more sounds like that from him and coax his fingers into a hapless grip in her hair.

She bobbed skillfully at his cock, hollowing her cheeks as her fingers fondled delicately at his soft skin.

His head dropped back as she took more of him in her mouth. When she pulled back to the tip, grinding the flat of her tongue against it and tasting the salty precum that had started to bead there, he said her name, and then it was her turn to moan.

“Mm, fuck.” His chest rose and fell steeply as she pumped him in and out of her mouth. “You’re _too_ good at that.”

Triumph prickled inside of her, and she sucked at him more enthusiastically, peering up at him with a catty look to her eyes, tracing her tongue along the underside of his length. 

That was his way of inquiring about who else she was sharing her bed with. While sometimes loneliness was such an unbearable bedfellow that she did find herself bringing some faceless, nameless riffraff into her bedroom, it was a different sort of fuck than what she had with Yao. 

No one could top him; of course, if he was that worried about it, they’d need to have a conversation on what they were, if not just friends who occasionally fucked.

His eyes cracked open so he could peer down at her through half-lidded eyes, and she tightened her lips, wanting to leave a generous smear of her lipstick around him. 

She’d worn red tonight because it was his favorite, and now she wanted to convey that to him.

She released him and lifted his cock, angling her head to better reach his balls, which were still in hand. She mouthed at them, pressing dainty kisses and reveled in the sound of his breath hitching.

A moment later, his hands were firm on her shoulders, pushing her back.

He was breathing heavily and his face was flushed.

“Tonight’s supposed to be about relaxing _you_.”

Her lipstick was definitely smudged now, and a string of saliva dangled from her bottom lip. 

She felt classless and dirty. She tried not to be embarrassed as she wiped it away.

Yao’s hands went to her elbows, pulling her up to her feet and in for another kiss.

She was tense in his arms and kissed back gingerly, afraid that he would taste himself on her. If he did, it didn’t seem to put him off.

Yao was walking them back towards the bed as they kissed, his arms around her waist like he was afraid she wouldn’t follow if he didn’t hold her.

One of her many deadlines – the closest one, the next night – sprouted in her mind; a putrid thought. 

Yao seemed to be able to tell how her mind was beginning to wander. He kissed her harder and held her tighter, willing the worries away; they obeyed him better than her.

There were worries of course, that he made worse and not better, the biggest one of which swelled between them, hidden in her chest, stoked by every affection. This one was dangerously deceptive, twisting every word of his into sugar water that slipped into her ears and rotted her brain. No longer could she see the world clearly; now everything was rose-colored.

The wetness between her legs was growing viciously like it was trying to impress him with just how wet she _could_ be for him; it was yet another ocean between them.

At the bed, he dropped down onto it, legs spread, cock still out and hard. She hesitated before him.

If she were a cautious woman, she’d stop now and say she was tired or not feeling well. She’d protect her heart before it could toe the line.

She was never cautious with Yao, which was probably how they’d ended up in such an arrangement.

He grabbed her hand, pulling her close before turning her in his arms so that when she toppled onto his lap, it was her back to his chest. She could feel his erection at her lower back and her arousal flared. She wanted him to touch her desperately and she hated herself for it.

Instead of grabbing onto him, her arms wrapped around herself, like she was trying to make sure all the pieces were there.

Yao felt this too; he shifted beneath her, tugging at her arms, trying to loosen her grip.

“Relax.”

How cute that he still thought this was about work.

She thought her legs were clamped tightly together but then his knee moved between her legs and easily parted her for him.

She gasped at such an easy breach in her defenses, and Yao read this sound as a good thing. His hands went to her shoulders, fingers rubbing warm, little circles into her tense muscles.

“You have so many knots,” he murmured, pausing to press a kiss at where he was rubbing. “You seem…more stressed than usual. Is something the matter?”

“I’m fine. It was just a rough week at work, you know?”

He made a sound of agreement.

“I do. We should really take a vacation, just you and I.”

His hands slipped lower, now clamping down at the sides of her arms, and kneading at the muscle there. His chin was at her shoulder.

“It would be like that time we went to Australia – remember?”

She did. It was when they’d actually, just been friends. 

They’d spent a lot of the week at the beach and he’d bought her a stuffed kangaroo as a souvenir. Cute stuff like that was more his thing, but he was her thing, so she cherished it all the same.

“I can only imagine how great a vacation would be with you now.”

She wondered a little at this but didn’t feel like pressing on the matter right at that moment.

“What about you? Tell me about your fantasies.”

She didn’t say anything right away. What was she supposed to say? That she dreamt of him most nights? His mouth on her, his cock in her – the truth?

The thoughts distilled themselves onto the tip of her tongue; if alcohol was a truth serum then pleasure was the singular key to a mouth locked tight.

Still, she hadn’t lost her wits entirely. She held onto those words so tight, it was like she had a white-knuckled fistful of them; like her clammy palms were sweating them unrecognizable.

Yao’s hands moved to massage at her sides where there was barely any muscle; below her shoulders and dangerously close to her breasts.

“Oh, come on now, we tell each other _everything_. There’s nothing to be shy about. Tell me, do you fantasize about anyone we know?”

That was a stupid question. 

What was she supposed to do, make someone up purely so she could jerk off?

“Yes.”

“To someone that we both know?”

She paused. In the fantasy she was deferring to, there were several people that they both knew.

“Yes.”

Yao’s hands moved away from her breasts and she released a breath she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding. She felt his lips at her neck again, this time more persistent. She arched towards him, allowing him more room to trail his open-mouthed kisses.

“Who?” he murmured against her skin. 

She shivered.

“You know, you work with some very-“ the edge of Yao’s teeth caught her neck in the beginnings of a playful nip “-handsome men.”

He bit a little harder than she thought he would, and she yelped.

“That’s too rough, Yao.”

He apologized with a gentle kiss to where he’d bitten.

“The people I work with, then.” His voice was unreadable, though she was almost certain he wasn’t pleased. This only made her want to divulge more of the nasty details. “Which one?”

His hands reached around to start at the buttons on her blouse. He wrenched the first few open, and a few buttons went skittering mutely to the carpet.

This was rougher than how he usually was. She’d fucked him angry once, and it hadn’t been directed at her. She suddenly had the urge to pull more of this from him.

She paused, wanting him to steep in anticipation.

He started on the next set of buttons.

“More than just one?”

“All of them.”

Yao paused.

“Including me?”

She gasped as he reached between the loose lips of her shirt for the straps of her bra and dragged them down, exposing her breasts to him.

His hands went to cup them and she moaned. She’d been aching for him to touch them since she’d arrived.

“You always were so sensitive here.”

He tweaked at her nipples as if to demonstrate his point, and another helpless mewl fell from her lips.

“ _Yao_ -“

She shrank back into him, the reminder that he was more clothed than she was making her feel even more naked. It was silly, but she had half the mind that maybe he could see how he made her heart beat right out of her chest.

He said her name and she felt herself clench emptily. The crotch of her panties was completely soaked through.

When this wasn’t enough to tear an answer from her, one hand left her breasts and gripped her chin, turning her head so she had to look at him.

“Me too?” he asked again, demanding now.

She pinched her eyes shut, unable to hold the intensity of his gaze. Her heart was racing, and she felt like her skin might catch fire from the sparks it was throwing in its wake.

“ _Especially_ you.”

Her face reddened viciously; she hadn’t intended to say it aloud, but being so close to him, bared to him like she was after such a dry spell - the resulting fever had her near delirious with want.

His lips seared against hers again, moving hastily, desperately, like he was stealing secrets from her. 

She wasn’t so certain that she wouldn’t tell him how she really felt so long as he kept kissing her like that.

She felt more coolness wash over her exposed belly as he tugged her now ruined shirt off of her, tossing it to be forgotten on the floor. She swallowed; the heat of him behind her was blistering. His hands left her for just a moment as he went to the back of her bra. Some of the tightness in her chest released as he unclasped it, and then that was forgotten too.

She broke the kiss to breathe as he reached for her skirt, his hands smoothing over how it pulled tight over her thighs and ass.

When he found the zip at the side, he yanked at it, impatient to get it down. She could tell that he liked when it caught too though; confirmation of exactly how well she filled the garment.

When he finally succeeded, she helped him; lifting her hips so he could ease the skirt further down her legs, before she kicked it off to join the rest of her clothes.

Yao’s hands traced reverently over her legs and the way the netty material stretched over her voluptuous body.

She hadn’t taken her heels off either; another delicious fact Yao appreciated.

“Do you want me to leave them on? The…stockings and heels, I mean.”

She hated how her voice seemed to get soft when she was with him; hated how the pink at her cheeks was sweet like rose petals and the way she clung to him like he was all she needed.

She also knew that he _really_ liked it when she kept the heels on.

He eyed them a little ruefully.

“You look terrific in them, but they can’t possibly be comfortable.”

They weren’t.

“You like them,” she said, a little shyly.

He leaned in to kiss her on the nose.

“But _you_ don’t.”

His arms tightened around her and then he was rolling them further onto the bed. She gave a little squeal, unprepared for the abrupt movement, and then Yao was peeling her stockings from her, her panties coming down as well.

She sat up to watch him as he finished undressing her, wrapping one arm over her breasts; more of a mental security blanket than any real measure to protect her modesty. 

He smiled to himself, recognizing the habit though he’d seen her naked dozens of times by now.

When her stockings and panties were at her ankles, he brought her feet onto his lap to take one heel off, then the other.

Her stockings came off, her panties trapped inside. When she was fully naked, Yao at once brought his fingers soothingly over the tender areas of her foot, which he’d memorized as one was acquainted with the creaky steps on the stairs of their childhood home.

He rubbed gentle circles into her skin and she sighed, relaxing a bit in earnest for maybe the first time since she’d entered the room.

His other hand pinched up along her calf, trying to diffuse the tension in the muscle.

“Now then, your fantasies – you were telling me about them.”

Her eyes shut.

“More like you were demanding to know.”

He didn’t answer; guilty as charged.

“You mentioned several of my colleagues…” he prompted.

Her knee-jerk response to being _probed_ like that, especially by a man who already made her feel like it was too easy to lower her defenses, was to get _defensive_.

She steeled herself and tried to keep her face lax.

He gave the knot of her ankle a little, encouraging squeeze.

“The one with the glasses,” she started. “The loud one-“

“Alfred?”

“Yeah, him, he’s…behind me.”

Even though her eyes were closed, she felt her face warm, knowing he was watching her.

“What’s he doing?”

“He’s inside -but not…” she swallowed. “His- he’s in my ass and his hands are on my-”

“Your…?”

There was no word she liked to say to refer to her breasts; they either sounded too juvenile or too clinical.

Trusting that his eyes were still on her, she reached up to palm her breasts, giving them a light squeeze, stroking her thumbs over the hardened peaks.

Yao’s grip on her tightened and she knew he’d seen.

The image was clear in her head, though she hadn’t fantasized like this in a while. Alfred’s hands on her hips were like iron, bruising almost certainly. His cock stretched her, the sting of that, and the heat of him behind her heavy and intense compared to the flitted motions of his fingers at her nipples.

“Who else is there?”

“The tall, intimidating one…Itya?”

“ _Ivan_.”

She flushed again; she disliked being wrong.

“Yeah, him. His cock is in my mouth.”

She thought of how she already tasted Yao that evening, and her tongue searched the crevices of her mouth, trying to resummon the memory of sucking him off.

His grip on her was so tight now that it was a little painful.

“Ow, you’re being too-“

“And where am I in all of this?”

His voice was sharp, and she knew she’d met her earlier goal in stroking his temper.

“You’re inside me, in the front.”

She held her breath again, the heat inside of her licking at her skin so intensely, she thought she might be having a heart attack.

All of a sudden, she felt herself being pulled forward; her eyes snapped open and she gasped.

Yao had used his grip on her leg and was pulling her towards him.

“How naughty,” he said, shifting so that he was crawling over her when he couldn’t pull her anymore. 

“To think of so many men _using_ you like that.”

He wasn’t smiling and she was glad; she winced at his words as if they were a slap.

When his face hovered inches above hers, his hair came down around them, a dark curtain.

His eyes were so dark a brown here, that they looked black, and yet, it wasn’t absence she saw, but a much hotter fire, that burned her from the marrow of her bones out.

“You deserve so much more than that,” he said harshly.

Despite how his voice lashed at her, his hands were gentle as they converged on her. They ghosted over her breasts, tracing over above where her heart beat. 

She thought he might’ve felt how it fluttered when his hand lingered, but he didn’t say anything, and she knew that if he’d felt something like that, he would’ve mentioned it.

He bowed his head towards hers to kiss her, his lips as soft as his hands were. 

She was at once seized by the urge to confess that her fantasies were filled only of him and the secret things she could tell him there, but then he left her lips too soon to trail at the ridge of her jaw. 

She moaned softly as he kissed down her neck.

“You don’t need to pander to different men who can only offer you one mediocre night,” he breathed. 

She shook in his arms at the feeling of his warm breath at her sensitive skin. “You deserve someone who can meet all your needs.”

He nipped at her collarbone, and she jerked against him, only to once again be reminded of his still prominent erection.

“Someone who can fill you wholly.”

She wanted to reach down to grab his length and give it a few pumps, but then his hands were pinning hers, and his face was buried in her breasts.

“Someone who loves you so much, that you can _feel_ it with every touch.”

His grip on her wrists tightened and she felt her breathing pick up, the rise of her chest caught at the demand of his lips and tongue.

His hands dripped from her then, sliding past her fingers like water. They moved down, one stopping by where his face was to cup a breast, and the other smoothing further down to splay at her thigh, squeezing the plush give of her.

“So lovely.”

He pressed a kiss into the valley between her breasts, and then another one above her heart.

Her breath caught, and she had no doubt he’d felt it. She closed her eyes as he peered up at her, unable to watch him touch her like a lover while she felt they’d never be anything more than old friends. 

Old friends that wound up in bed together every time they were in the same city.

She felt a hollow pang in her chest and wetness bead at her lashes. She drew a wrist over her face to conceal this.

Yao was a gentleman of the highest caliber, cultured and smart, with him, she felt like a queen but her castle was made of paper, and her crown was just a daisy chain.

“Wait.”

She spoke without meaning to. 

Yao paused his ministrations. 

Her mind blanked. She had no clue what she’d meant to say. She had no idea she had meant to say anything at all.

All she’d known was that she was tired and she missed him while he was still in her arms. That she’d never felt lonelier than when she was in bed with him, but that being with him was the only way she could be made whole.

She couldn’t tell him all of this.

“Can we try something different?”

He lifted his head, his eyebrows raised.

“Different?”

“Yeah, like,” she wracked her mind for anything that would get her out of this headspace. “Like…roleplay or something?”

“Roleplay? I didn’t think you were into that.”

He sat up beside her and she opened her eyes. He turned to her, and his eyes flicked thoughtfully from her face down to her breasts. 

She crossed her arms over her chest.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me still.”

He quirked one eyebrow. 

She had phrased it like a challenge, and Yao was a man who wasn’t challenged by much.

“Well, alright then.”

He reached over to her, his fingers finding her wet folds for the first time that evening. Immediately, she felt her body relent to his touch; she arched towards him, canting her hips against his skillful fingers.

She hated herself for it.

“What sort of roleplay?” he asked, his eyes studying her reaction.

His cock twitched at how soft and pliable she looked from where he was sitting.

She thought for a few moments; she didn’t have an idea immediately ready because he was right – roleplay normally wasn’t a part of their itinerary and it had only found its way into their bed tonight because she needed something that made her feel less gut-wrenchingly in love with him.

“Something…different. I don’t know; I could be a hooker and you could be a john or something.”

Yao made a face at that, so she quickly switched gears.

“Or maybe you could be the king and I could be your obedient servant.”

She felt his eyes on her and she knew she wasn’t fooling him completely. He could tell something was up, though he couldn’t place exactly what.

“That doesn’t sound very relaxing for you.”

She changed tactics, wanting to get out of the intimate headspace they were both in. She shifted so that she was leaning forward, now on her hands and knees, and prowled towards him. One hand went to his cock to cup him and he groaned, his eyes falling half-shut. She leaned in real close so her lips were at his ear, and her cheek grazed his. She resisted the urge to turn her head and kiss him.

“If you’d just fuck me already, I could get all good and relaxed.”

She wanted to lean down and put his cock in her mouth again - anything so she didn’t have to meet those eyes. Firm fingers stopped her. 

“Hm.” He looked her up and down and she looked away. “Then, undress me. That’s my first order.”

She ignored his cock at the present moment, instead turning to his shirt and those wicked buttons. 

“Yes…sire.”

She didn’t have to look at his face to see that he liked that.

Where each button parted to reveal more of his skin, she leaned down to brush a kiss in its wake. 

She pushed the garment from his shoulders, trailing her fingers luxuriously along the soft play of muscle beneath. Yao let out a contented sound and then his head dropped forward in an attempt to catch her lips with his.

Of course, she kissed him back; she’d sooner be dead than not.

When he moved his mouth against hers this time, she stalled in muted obedience, moving just enough to reciprocate what he did without allowing him to be privy to the fire he’d started inside of her.

She ducked her head, breaking the kiss.

His hand reached up and stroked at her cheek.

“What did you do that for?” he asked softly.

She didn’t answer, instead turning her attention to his trousers to start easing them fully down his legs, along with his underwear. He helped her, pulling them off and letting them fall to the floor; more of a formality than anything, as his cock had already been out.

She placed her hand on his chest and looked over his naked body; pale scars crosshatched at his skin like it was woven from the battles he’d warred in his life. Between his legs, nestled in a patch of wiry, dark brown hair, was his cock, formidably erect.

He caught her hand and held it to him.

“Come sit on my lap now.”

Commands were so at home on his tongue that the only obligations she felt to them were that of which her heart did – and those were bound to Yao himself, not his words.

She half-crawled as he pulled her onto his lap, facing him. He dipped his head, nosing against her to vie for another kiss. This time, she let him. He still had a hold on her hand, and as his mouth moved against her, she could feel the steady throb of his heart under her palm.

A little sound left her throat, an almost-whine, and Yao coaxed her mouth open further, slipping his tongue in like he was searching for it.

He broke the kiss, his hands bracing beneath her thighs to hoist her body more firmly against his. 

Her stomach flipped as she felt his cock caught between them, pressing at her stomach. Her hands flew up to his shoulders, scrabbling for a hold on him. 

He held her so that she rode up onto him, her chest now at his eye level.

Yao mouthed at the underside of a breast and she sighed against him before he went to take a nipple into his mouth, sucking gently.

She moaned, her fingers finding their way into his hair, tangling in the silky strands so she could clutch him close.

“Mm,” he smiled against her. “Finally, you’re opening up for me.”

His hands smoothed upwards, finding her jaw and bringing her face down for another kiss. His teeth found her bottom lip and sunk in to give it a soft suck.

He felt her breathing roughen against his mouth; she could feel him still smiling. She rolled her hips against his, finding his cock against her wet folds. 

“ _Ah_ -“ Yao hadn’t been expecting that. 

He jerked against her, unable to help himself any longer.

She moaned loudly at this and tried to shimmy down to grind against him in search of more substantial friction. 

Again, his arms formed a viselike grip around her body, holding her so tightly that she couldn’t move.

“I didn’t give you permission to do _that_.”

His voice was terse.

“Oh, are you going to punish me?”

“Of course I am, you took too many liberties with your king.”

That’s right, they were supposed to be roleplaying.

She clambered halfway off of him, leaving below the waist on his lap, finding a hold on the bed. 

From this position, he had a generous view of her ass; her stomach flipped at the idea that he might spank her.

She was wrong though, instead, he grabbed an ankle, and used it to flip her onto her back. Now he had access to the _other_ side of her. 

Her legs folded up almost automatically as he leaned forward, face-first, his lips finding the slick seam of her cunt.

He kissed her sex softly, his lips moving malleably against her before his tongue darted out to trace along the contours of her body.

A weightless electricity felt like it was ricocheting through her, making her legs tremble and heart freeze. 

She let out a cry, arching towards him and shying away from him simultaneously. She blushed at hearing how clearly she wanted him in her voice.

“ _Oh_ , Yao – wait-“

“That’s not how you address your king.”

The idea of calling him some silly title made her face heat further; the warmth swelled in her chest and lodged in her throat. It took her a few moments before she could talk again, and by that time, Yao was pressing open-mouthed kisses to her cunt, grinding the flat of his tongue against her sensitive clit.

“Certainly a _king_ wouldn’t be doing this, especially with a-“ 

What was she again? A maid or something?

He paused his ministrations only to press a kiss to her inner thigh, and the softness of the gesture almost made her cry right there. Her throat was tight, and so when he nuzzled further into her sex, his nose pressing delightfully against her too, his face grazing the sensitive area of her thighs, she moaned and it came out choked.

“I have no idea what you mean,” he spoke the words into her sex. He was grinning, she could tell. “I’m sampling the finest wine in the kingdom.”

His tongue found her entrance and at the feeling of something so near sublime, she clenched emptily. 

She was going to go crazy if she didn’t get fucked soon.

With his head buried between her thighs, he felt so far from the heart that ached for him so raggedly. 

Her shitty roleplay wasn’t working out, she wanted to make love and be spooned, and after that, who knew – she might fuck around and confess her love to her best friend.

Her thighs tightened around his head, shaking as his tongue teased at the bundle of nerves nestled at her sex. When her hips twitched, his hands were there to pin her down as he rubbed his face against her.

“You’re so sensitive,” his voice vibrated into her. “I need to be inside of you _now_. Lay with your king; I’m ordering you.”

Her chest was heaving, and her hands had twisted white-knuckled grips into the duvet.

“But I thought such…privileges were reserved for the queen.”

“Lay with me and be a queen, if only for tonight.”

Her heart throbbed and she brought her wrist up to her eyes again. 

The wet patch between her legs ran cold as Yao pulled away from her. A few moments later, she felt the mattress divot as something pressed against her entrance. It kept pressing and pressing – his cock. 

She was soaked, and so it didn’t take much effort for him to ease his length into her.

She let out a breath that tapered off into a moan. He was thick.

Besides how well he filled her though, there was also that nagging thought at the back of her head; the one where she became all too aware that it was Yao who was inside of her. She couldn’t help but squeeze around him. If she were trying to keep him inside her though or memorize the feel of him against her inner walls, she couldn’t decide.

“You’re tight.”

His voice sounded strained.

“You’re just _big_ ,” she mumbled.

Yao chuckled, obviously pleased with the compliment, before he started moving. 

To her surprise, despite how long he’d waited, he kept his pace slow, each drag of him inside her milked to its most pleasurable. She felt gentle fingers pry her arm away from her face and then she saw Yao peering down at her.

His eyes were heavy, intense, his brow drawn into a concentrated furrow as his hips slapped against hers. 

She could feel his breath roughen against her, and it was this detail that had her own pounding arousal rising inside of her, a fever pitch she could no longer banish to the back burner.

Yao was still so gentle with her; he’d picked up the pace a little down below, and now with each thrust, there was the wet sound of him sliding into her slick heat, with the accompanying slap of him against her. 

His arms were caged around her, he was holding himself up, and even then, his fingers were still tender to her.

She kept her eyes shut, unable to withstand the depths of his own as she felt him so intimately – she could feel his stare on her face though. She would’ve turned her head away to cower away from his scrutiny, if it weren’t for his hand at the side of her face, holding her in position.

“You’re so beautiful.” He pumped into her. “Your skin is so soft.”

She felt a light touch below her eyes, where he’d touched when she’d first walked in that evening. 

She felt it trace down her cheek, reverently, down to her lips.

“I could kiss you all day.”

His thumb stroked softly along her bottom lip. God, she wanted nothing else.

She felt herself clench around him and he moaned. Beneath him, her body was receptive to every cant of his hips into hers; she squirmed and arched, pulled apart and came together again, waxing and waning like the moon. 

He railed into her, wanting the intensity of what he felt for her to be palpable as their bodies made impact.

She felt emptied of what had been weighing her down, not only tonight but all week. Every reservation; be it from work or her anticipation of seeing Yao again melted away. 

His cock still felt like it was stretching her as he pushed against her body, and she was certain he reached corners of her no one else had reached before. Despite all of this, her brain was numbing her out; she was afraid of enjoying this too much, and then never again.

She felt more of that damned wetness at her eyes, and she tried to keep her face impassive. 

Certainly, Yao was a bit too preoccupied to notice the stray tear, here or there.

One slipped out sideways and streaked down her temple. She ignored it.

Then she felt something brush it away – Yao’s thumb? - and her heart leaped in her throat; she was caught.

His lips were at her ear.

“What’s wrong? Talk to me.”

She didn’t answer; instead, she clenched around him, consciously trying to drag him to his release.

Yao twitched inside of her and set his jaw.

“Come for me.”

His voice wavered at the end and his head dropped into her chest.

“You first, you’re closer.”

This was a lie. Her stomach was swooping and her blood was running hot and cold. Her nails bit into the comforter on the bed just so she could keep her voice steady.

“Tonight’s about you, you _have_ to come.”

“But I always come first.”

Yao pressed a kiss to her mouth, a breathy laugh escaping him.

“That’s how it’s supposed to be.”

His hips snapped against hers at a harried pace; he wasn’t going to last much longer, but then again, neither was she. She was already squeezing around him, the one time she’d intended to rippling into an aftershock of several haphazard tremors that had her pulsating around him like a second heartbeat. 

When she finally came, she arched into him with a high keen, her toes curling and eyes pinched shut. 

Yao spilled himself into her quickly thereafter, sweating on top of her, as he mustered just enough strength to kiss her fully on the mouth, his lips moving with no less dexterity than the first kiss they’d shared that night.

She felt a spurt of warmth as he emptied his load inside her. It sent white spots floating across her vision, and the vaguest of stirrings in her fatigued, static-filled limbs. 

He was the only lover she had that she let come inside; it was his place. Really, everything inside her, everything that _was_ her – heart and all - might as well have been branded with his name. 

She swallowed, her throat tight, and her eyes stinging with the promise of more tears. She let out a sniffle.

Yao’s arms tightened around her; her face was gently pressed into his chest.

Her shoulders shook as the tears began to fall; he didn’t press her anymore on the matter, just let her have it out with her cheek over his heart and the hot spatter of her tears at his skin. 

She didn’t need him to speak, so he didn’t. 

He held her, and when she finally quieted, he removed himself from her and pulled the sheets around their naked forms. Swaddled up against him, he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“So,” he started, his voice low. “Are you relaxed yet?”

She blinked at him, her eyes dewy, her cheeks and nose red. She leaned heavily against him; her face felt feverish. A pang went through his chest.

“Hey, you know I’ll always take care of you, right?”

He pulled back just enough to look at her. It was imperative to him that she understood the magnitude of what he was saying, as well as the feelings behind it.

His hands were stroking at her hair and down her arm. He paused to hold her so he could dip his head. He placed a few soft kisses down her neck, at the hollow of her throat, and then down once, right over her heart.

She caught him here, her hands coming around to hold him where she could feel him but didn’t have to look at him.

“Yeah,” she said. “I know.”


End file.
